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"Gotta say. Ain't yer normal stuff, I know I know, but that reve whatever?" Anthony gave a low whistle. "Tasted mighty fine."
NOWHERE'S SOMMELIER's posture suddenly tenses up. "It was a, uhm, interesting collaboration. I prefer the new wine I produced."
"How come?" Anthony lightly chuckles. "By the sounds of it, that new stuff ain't gonna taste that good."
"It's easier to be inspired by sources that prefer to forget." The android responds with a light laugh of its own. "The pollen was salty. Salty like tears. Quite a repugnant taste."
"Ah. I disagree." Anthony shakes his head. "Let people weep, I say. Malt and hops taste better with salt in 'em anyways."
"I think it ruins the batch. A clear, sweet flavor is what we need. A smooth taste that'll wash away everything else." This conversation isn't about the wine anymore. You do remember what Anthony said a few minutes ago. Two sides of the same coin...
"Different strokes for different folks. Guessin' ya had something 'salty' then, eh?"
The android doesn't respond. You decide to join the conversation. "I'm guessing you had a rough time sleeping, didn't you? We're not going to pry if you're uncomfortable-"
"You will anyways." The android responds reflexively.
"-but we want to make sure you're doing okay. You can refuse, of course, but would you mind telling me what you were dreaming about?"
NOWHERE'S SOMMELIER visibly recoils at the mention of 'dreams.' It doesn't immediately say 'no' so that's a good sign?
"Ain't gonna kiss and tell if that's what yer worrying about." Anthony gives a deep, boisterous laugh. "We can keep a secret, to the best of our ability, of course."
"Indeed." You nod. "I understand where you're coming from. Last night, I had a bad dream too. One I don't wanna talk about it either."
"Not sure if you want to be in the same boat as me, though." You croak out a noise resembling a laugh.
>3 SUCCESSES!
A strange, warm laugh comes from the android's voice box. "You would've been one of my customers, Vincent. I can smell it in your soul."
"Soul?" Anthony asks quizzically. NOWHERE'S SOMMELIER doesn't bother to answer.
"Ah. To embrace him again. That dream? that dream." Its voice has taken on an odd quality. Its voice is equally warm, sad, and bitter. The anomaly begins to recount its dreams.
"I don't dream. I <span class="mu-i">don't</span> dream, but I dreamed tonight. It was about him. One of my creators, from L'Cure, of course."
"He was middle-aged. Handsome man he was, someone who should've been popular with the ladies. He could've been if he moved on." NOWHERE'S SOMMELIER pulls its nozzle arm out of the now filled bucket.
>You now have a total of 7 OBSCURA SYRAH samples!
"Move on from what?" You pry for more information.
"<span class="mu-b">Her.</span> I think it was that woman anyways. It was late when he came to the workshop. I wasn't quite finished, no, they still had to iron out some kinks in my design. But I was 'aware' of myself then."
"He was a complete mess when I saw him."
